Little Talks
by ToulouseD
Summary: Request for pinkylicious. In which Ishida is giving Ichigo the silent treatment brought on by an unwelcome laugh at his expense and they end up doing far more than talking to each other.


_This story is a request from/for pinkylicious. It only took me 9 months. To be fair, 6 of them was spent not knowing because I don't check my PMs as much as I should, but lo and behold, it's done!_

_ I hope you like it or at least won't throw bricks at me._

_ Love and other drugs, ToulouseD_

"_**We had everything to say to each other, but no ways to say it."**_

_**Jonathan Safran Foer**_

"And who is this pretty little thing?"

I should've seen it coming, really. The entire day was simply an appetizer for this absolutely horrid moment.

I should never have run over to the abysmal spiritual pressure I felt from my building. I should never have agreed to any of this.

What did I think I could gain anyways?

It's not like the training with Ryuken had paid off yet and while I did my best to avoid Kurosaki and every associate he might have, in accordance with the deal I'd struck my so-called father, I had only felt this once before and I knew the minute I got my powers back – if I got my powers back – that I would need to know as much about this adversary of mine above me.

I hadn't counted on getting catcalls or hollering the minute I stepped onto the streets.

I gritted my teeth and looked down at my hands. Damn me and my idiotic, misplaced concept of justice and revenge, because this imbecile needed an arrow up his ass right away.

Kurosaki practically pummeled into the ground next to me and while a single drop of scarlet danced down his cheek, he gave me an amused look and then he was off again. The dust in his wake swirled around my feet and coated my shoes. I sighed dejectedly.

"Hey, Ichigo! Who's that doll on the ground?" the Espada asked. The broken jaw of his white mask almost shone in the sunlight. I looked over my shoulder and prayed that no one came by and saw me with the empty body of Kurosaki.

I hated when he dumped it on me like that.

"Hold this!" he had shouted and then he'd pushed himself away. Away from this world,_ my_ world.

Among many other things, I hated that. I hated his loudness, his inability to read other people and especially to regard me as anything other than someone to be protected.

The pity that had struck his eyes when he first learned the truth about the loss of my powers – I had wanted to punch him in the mouth. Because even without powers, I could still fight.

I had no idea what the Hollow thought of me as a possible enemy. I knew he was dangerous, of course, but I also knew he was beatable. A truth Kurosaki had duly forgotten the last time they clashed heads.

I was told.

I hadn't been monitoring the _Reiatsu_ minutely or anything.

At all.

"Hey, beautiful, why don't you get your sweet ass up here? I'm sure Ichigo wouldn't mind, would'ya Ichigo?"

"By all means." Kurosaki answered. Probably because he knew I couldn't get up there should I so wish. May the heavens strike him down where he stood.

I didn't want that of course.

Because even despite it all, I found myself utterly and painfully devoted to him through and through. I wouldn't want him hurt any more than I wanted his empty body as my responsibility.

I'm sure many would consider it an honor, to me; however, it was nothing but a confirmation of how I could never touch him unless he himself, his very soul, was not occupying his form.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my nape and I felt myself stiffen. The _Reiatsu_ was suffocating, crawling, mewling, clawing and meandering. It felt disgusting.

"Your chest might be lacking, but your legs – meow! Between you and that other big-breasted girl – what's her face? – I think I might just be satisfied." he purred into my ear. Shivers ran down my spine and I wanted nothing more than to shove an arrow down his esophagus.

Seeing as that was out of the question, I had to make do with what I had. I fished out the silver tube, careful not to draw attention to my movement.

"You're just might be the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

I could hear Kurosaki chuckle somewhere, a choked sound as if trying to hold it back but failing miserably. Idiot! That fucking idiot! He had far more important things to attend to. I mentally sighed and decided that I, even though I had no bow, had to do what Kurosaki failed to.

I stomped my heel into his shin, turned sharply, acknowledged his surprise in both his voice and expression, threw the tube in his proximity and crossed my hands.

"Feel the wrath of battle and accept this sacred chalice. _Heizen!" _

The tube ignited, a white-blue fire dancing across the Arrancars body, not marring or hurting, but momentarily stunning him as much that I could run away.

I didn't get far, needless to say.

_Sonido,_ they called it. I swore under my breath as I had to stop as he suddenly appeared in front of me. He had a grin on his face and a few lightblue locks falling into his eyes.

"The little pussy has claws, huh?"

And I be damned if I didn't hear Kurosaki snicker again. I had half a mind to glare him to death or maybe bludgeon, however, it wouldn't exactly help my current predicament.

"But two can play that game, Dollface."

A blinding white light appeared from his hand and shot through the air with terrible speed. And I could do nothing but stand wide-eyed and watching as it whipped closer.

And then a golden shield appeared in front of me, blocking the _Cero_. Inoue-san stood firm next to me with her hands held out and a concentrated frown. Sado-kun grabbed me around the middle and ran the opposite direction.

"I will do to you what I did to your little friend, Prettyface!" the Arrancar shouted. I tried to wriggle free from Sado-kun's hold but I have no success.

"Who did he get?" I asked, giving up on convincing Sado-kun I could run by myself. As if I had any desire to remain in a situation where a lunatic was prattling compliments or pick-up lines more likely and I had no weapon of actual power. And I really couldn't be humiliated any further.

"He ran his hand through Kuchiki-san." Sado-kun curtly answers. "Inoue-san already attended to her."

He stops and puts me down. We're standing in an alley inhabited by dumpsters and trashcans. A fire escape is hanging down from one of the building and with a step on the ground and one on a trashcan I reach the metal-ladder and haul myself up, towards the roof.

There's a something in the air and every Spirit Particle in the area is acting up. It feels confused and jittery. Sado-kun simply follows me.

And then a burst above us makes us snap our necks upwards. We both knew that feeling and we both knew that Kurosaki was acting rashly. His _Reiatsu_ told us as much. We crawled faster towards the roof.

Kurosaki had gone into _Bankai, _it might have been the single-most destructive thing he could've done.

And while Sado-kun still had powers to speak of, he remained by my side as my brow furrowed and my hands clenched. My eyes would've stayed trained on his figure, had it not been for the sudden shield Sado-kun's arm provided due to the firing of another _Cero_.

I breathed out carefully and refocused on Kurosaki. His body moved deftly through the air and the waves of pure _Reiatsu_ was rolling off him. Being struck be those felt like being washed over with acid. It stung and it bit, but it washed away any trace of the Hollow.

The black fabric collided with itself while the wind was tearing it to pieces and the white sash around his hips fluttering madly, intertwining itself with the short black chain of _Tensa Zangetsu_. I closed my eyes and let the force of his very being unfold over my senses. They clouded my vision and hearing, the stunned my tastes and my smell and magnified my sense of feeling.

Being attracted to Kurosaki was obviously easy if you looked at his physical appearance. However, it was that fire he always seemed to burn with that drew me in. He was the embodiment of a knight, brave, compassionate, honorable. Kurosaki's ability never to give up, always finding someone to fight for, never putting anyone below him was a quality I admired.

The feeling of him was overwhelming without any of myself to stand against it.

Quivering, tense and prickly; my fingers were almost alive on their own and it felt as if I could reach out and touch him. And that would probably be the closest I would ever get to him.

It brought me back to reality with a harsh tug. I uncoiled my hands and relaxed my posture.

With a ravenous sound above us, a _Garganta_ opened and out of it stepped another Espada. His _Reiatsu_ was very different from the other's, more gaping, more hollow, so to speak. I looked from him to Kurosaki and wondered if he was now to be killed. He could barely hold his own against the one, if the other chose to attack, all we could hope for was that Kurosaki would be able to fend them off long enough for help to arrive.

"Grimmjow!" the black-haired and stoic Hollow called. The other stopped his battle with Kurosaki, only to _Sonido_ his ass down to me.

"You really have something special, toots. I like your style." he winked and _God forbid!_ lent forward and licked my cheek.

"See you around, kitty-cat." Grimmjow smirked and was gone as fast as he had arrived. I stood frozen in place while the two Espadas left the same way the second had arrived.

The minute they were gone, the silence overtook everything. Not even a gust of wind, a stray cat or a car-horn in the distance could be heard. It seemed like the world itself wanted to make a period and let the air suffer soundlessly while she did.

"Ishida-kun? Sado-kun?" Inoue-san called below us. We both snapped out of our revere and I, for one, slowly lifted my hand to wipe my cheek. The sun had all but dried my skin, but the action seemed necessary considering the nature of it. We crawled down from the roof and when we landed, Kurosaki and Inoue-san stood waiting.

And then suddenly indignation hit me like a metric shit-load of bricks. I walked with angry steps and my hands balled into fists. Sado-kun noticed the change and moved his one visible eye to me. He looked as concerned as Inoue-san sounded when she asked me what was wrong.

"What is wrong? What is wrong?" I first deadpanned and then my voice rose. I rarely got this agitated unless Kurosaki or Asano was talking nonsense, but this was so humiliating.

"A Hollow just made unnecessary rude, flirtatious and most definitely inappropriate commentaries at me. I have never felt this violated in my entire life! Is that some sort of new Hollow-battle policy? Compliment and verbally rape your opponent, before you kill them?"

"He didn't say that kinda stuff to me, Ishida." Kurosaki said with a sly smile and I really wanted to punch him in his mouth then and there, his delectable jaw be damned.

"Maybe you just didn't pick up on it, Kurosaki. You're not exactly known for impressive intellectual feats." I retorted and rubbed my temples. I really didn't want an argument now after being orally assaulted. In more ways than one.

"Or maybe he's just attracted to skinny, self-righteous, know-it-alls!"

I couldn't help but deadpanning my response. "Only one of those adjectives described my appearance, Kurosaki. Asshole wouldn't have known that."

"Takes one to know one. And you don't even deny being self-righteous and annoyingly knowing!"

"I don't see how that's an insult."

"Either way, you just had an Espada hit on you and if that's not fucking hilarious I don't know what is. Seriously, the only person, and a guy to boot, who would ever flirt with you is a Hollow, your sworn Quincy enemy. That's fucking funny, Ishida." he laughed and if it hadn't been so demeaning and on my expense I would've loved thinking that I had made him laugh like that.

"Don't worry, Ishida-kun. I don't think he knew you were a guy in the first place." Inoue-san broke in. I slowly turned and looked at her, probably a little too harshly and with too many questions.

"What?" I asked. Sado-kun moved over next to Inoue-san, who seemed quite oblivious to my current state of mind.

"You're almost too pretty to be a guy. With a little make-up, a dress and some longer hair you could fool anybody." she smiled and I knew it wasn't meant as degrading as it sounded to me but it didn't change the fact that I was livid.

"Oh my God! That is the single-most funny thing I've ever heard!" Kurosaki smiled with one of those rare, genuine smiles that even more seldom was directed at me. And then he chuckled and then laughed.

I sighed angrily and shook my head exasperated. "I'm leaving."

"Going home to make a dress, Ishida?" Kurosaki joked and smiled at his own hilarity.

"No! I'm going home to get back my Quincy-powers; and when I do, trust me, I'll honor that promise I made to my father to my dying day!" I hissed. I turned around on my heel and retreated to the Hospital. Later that night, my father pierced my chest with and arrow, exactly 19 mm from my heart.

And on that same night, Ichigo found out what Ishida's promise entailed.

They spoke again when they left for Hueco Mundo. They kept their silence when they returned. Ichigo had lost his powers and Ishida had regained his. This reversal of roles was only momentary as Ichigo had his returned soon enough.

I knew it was stupid holding a grudge so long, but Kurosaki's outburst had left very little to interpret, regarding his emotions for me. I knew for a fact that we were incompatible. We were too similar to attract as opposites and too unalike to reconnect as two halves of a whole.

It hurt more than I thought it would, realizing that it was unrequited also was an equivalent of futile. I don't think I've ever regretted and rejoiced a decision as much as I did this, severing as much contact with Kurosaki as possible. I hoped that maybe it would be as easy to fall out of love as I had fallen in.

It wasn't, of course.

And so the distance only served to widen the already immense gap between us.

I must amend my previous statement. I didn't hold a grudge. I held enlightenment and the shadows of that kept Kurosaki in my heart, chained like Pavlov's hound and therefore I would answer his every call for help and that's what led me to fighting alongside him against Ginjo.

Irony be damned, that when I tried talking to him and when I finally led words fall from my tongue, after several months of silence, he shouted a command of silence and I did.

I promised myself that it would be permanent this time.

But to think that our last incivility should be that; that would baffle me still.

I don't know when the change occurred in me, but one day I couldn't stand it anymore. Ishida's constant silence, his even quieter movements, his loud eyes; I finally noticed.

I immediately knew why he didn't – talk to me that was. I had told him to after all.

But I couldn't find any words to break the silence and so I watched him instead when the four of us would hunt Hollows and I would feel my heart beat a little faster when he drew his bow and held the arrow. He looked positively serene in those moments, where there was nothing but his own breathing, the arrow and its target.

Ishida would leave first, curt and clipped, no pleasantries spared. And I knew why.

I think he was still upset about the whole Grimmjow incident. I can see how it might've bothered him and even more so when Inoue called him a girly and my own laughing. I don't even know why, but it felt so good laughing at that. Like laughing at Grimmjow's admittedly creepy attempts would lessen the quivering needle in my heart.

It did. But only because Ishida was so livid. I never saw any emotions on him other than scorn, pride and aloofness, but this deep sky blue fire that consumed him, the anger licking trails of emotion up his spine; it was so good to witness.

Sure he would get a little temperamental when Keigo or I annoyed him or when we bickered, but I've never been able to get a rise like that out of him before, anger in its purest form, and I saw everything.

Ishida is fast at figuring things out, Chad is generally a good observer and Inoue has an uncanny ability to see right through your carefully constructed mask and unveil the emotions hidden there.

I just know. I don't know how, but somehow it suddenly just makes sense. It's been that way since forever. It's like making a puzzle in your mind, and when the final piece is collected and fitted, it just makes sense.

And I saw so much of Ishida then. The guilt, the hurt, the pride, the melancholy and most of all the blazing belief he held in himself. Ishida didn't know what self-doubt was, I've never met someone as aware of everything as him. Both himself, his surroundings and the more ethereal beings of this world.

That window had been shut fast and completely when he had turned around to get his powers back. I hadn't realized how much of him they were. I didn't understand, and then I lost my own and it was so clear to me. I felt the guilt, the hurt, the pride, the melancholy and the blazing belief I had in my friends when I saw them shoulder the burden I no longer could.

When I got back my powers, I had immediately looked for Ishida, to ask him if this was what it felt like; to be whole again, to feel, to breath as one again.

But he had disappeared as soon as I had set foot on the ground. Everybody had welcomed me and congratulated me on my victory, but the one I sought the most approval from and the one who could understand my plight, was leaving before I even got the chance to approach him.

It took me a few weeks but I understood soon enough.

Which leads us to this exact moment; the day where this wall had to be torn down.

It was sunny outside, it was summer and it was hot. Friday didn't mean we were free to breathe or stand in the grass with the world alive around us.

In the sharp sunlight you could see every insect, every pollen, and every drop of sweat that gathered and withdrew, like breathing in the heavens.

Not unpleasantly so, but enough to make you blush after a few warm-up exercises. And warm-up exercises were essential for a man such as Kagine-sensei. As Phy-Ed proceeded it was made very clear that the warm weather was no excuse to lay low and relax.

The girls were running laps on the track-field. The boys were fortunate enough not to.

Baseball was Kagine-sensei's choice of torture and team leaders were chosen randomly from the call-sheet. Chad, Keigo and I were on the same team, Ishida and Mizuiro on the other.

First inning and our team was squashing the other. Not because of our pitcher. He sucked. I noticed Ishida looking at me as I was swinging the bat testingly and then waiting for Mizuiro to pitch.

I hit it square on, fueled by having Ishida as an onlooker. I wanted to impress him, I think. And apparently saving the world wasn't enough.

So I hit a homerun instead and won us another round of points.

When Ishida stepped up to the plate and placed himself on the right side of it and held on to the bat with on one hand, it awarded him an aggravated Kagine-sensei who tried to instruct Ishida in how to properly hold the bat.

Ishida ignored him completely. The first ball flew right by him and he made no signs of moving. Keigo pitched the second ball, and the leathery thump of a missed ball rang through the court. I had no idea what Ishida was doing, and neither did Kagine-sensei if the color of his face was anything to go by.

On the third ball, Ishida swung the bat one-handed and sent the ball flying. His feet left dust-clouds in his wake, the only sign that Ishida had been there a few minutes ago. He made third base and stood their stoic and defiant of Kagine-sensei's instructions.

I knew he didn't care. Ishida played by his own rules. And so, our class got warmer and warmer and the other team picked up pace and suddenly a draw was approaching. All the boys were sweating and our t-shirts was sticking to our bodies, making the game uncomfortable, if anyone had cared about it. Most of us chucked off the shirts, Ishida's remained on.

I could see the blue pentacle through his shirt, but that was probably because I knew it was there.

And that bothered me more than the heat of the game or the hotness of the weather.

We locked eyes with each other across the field and I felt a surge of adrenaline go through my spine. I breathed out and broke contact.

Mizuiro ended up being sent off court because he kept looking to the girls and constantly pulled out his phone. In his place, Ishida stepped on to the designated position and stood firm against Chad.

No one shouted or hollered, it was much too warm for that. All you could hear was the crickets creaking as a choir and the sound of leather and wood striking.

Ishida managed to elude Chad with all three strikes and that meant that the outcome of the game was resting on my shoulders. It seemed like a horribly cruel joke from the universe.

When I stepped onto the plate - I don't know - something happened.

We locked eyes again, but this time it was so much more intense. The blue of his eyes stood out against the blackness of his hair, a few strands in his eyes, the wind pushed them gently. He closed his eyes and I did the same.

It seemed too heavy starring into the void, the ocean of Ishida's eyes.

I had to admit I was afraid of the ocean. We knew more about the moon's surface than the bottom of the sea and the vastness, the darkness, the loneliness it held – it scared me.

He pitched the first ball and I missed it by a hair's breath.

I found his eyes again and suddenly, that second seemed to stretch out and stop entirely. It felt like standing underneath the sky, watching the stars flicker and then feeling the very arch of the heavens tumble down upon you.

I couldn't help but swallow as I recognized the look in Ishida's eyes. Pure and undiluted: fierce and concentrated determination.

He pitched again and this time I wasn't even close.

I looked into his eyes again and this time I saw myself. And in that moment, something akin to worry flitted across Ishida's face, like he knew that we had so much more to say to each other, but no words to say it; that we couldn't close the book and leave it there.

Ishida pitched the third ball and I hit it square on, the _thwack_ of the bat and the ball colliding resounded in the entire schoolyard and the ball was gone.

I found him staring at me after the victory had been confirmed to our team.

It spoke volumes of regret. Regret it seemed, for our collective powers that ultimately resulted in a win for my team, and in that effect, me.

And it dawned on me that Ishida had given the third pitch to me on a silver platter; like he had given his own hand and very soul so often.

And then I knew.

My heart clenched as I realized how this was. It seeped my bones and made them shaky and soft, churned my innards and I felt my lungs constrict as I caught one last glance of utter defeat painted with miniscule stroked on Ishida's face.

I needed someone to talk to.

"Is it because you think he's too pretty to look like a boy?" she asked deviously. I looked at her with a frown.

"That was not exactly what I expected to hear when I came here."

"Ichigo, to me you sound like a love-struck teenager. You complain about him not talking to you after you told him to shut up and then you tell me you felt uneasy when someone else tried to pick him up. Ichigo, if that isn't jealousy, I don't know what is." she said, serious and business-like.

I stared at her. "But do you agree with Inoue? Is Ishida too pretty to be a guy?"

I could feel my face warm up and I knew I had to be blushing furiously. Yoruichi-san was relishing in this, I thought. I could practically see her leer at the idea. I liked her better as a cat.

"Watch out, Ichigo, you might set yourself on fire." she teased. I diverted my eyes from hers.

"I don't think of him like that." I finally said. It was bullshit through and through. I had thought about his hands, his face, his legs – _Oh God, Ishida's legs!_ – Where those two collided. Hell, I had spied on him today after Phy-Ed! I had watched him as the droplets ran down his back, how some clung to his shoulders and how a few fell from his hair. The water made him seem peaceful, somehow. Like a spider web covered in dew, it couldn't be anything but quietly content. And then I'd seen his legs, the curve of his neck and lower back. Chad sent me a carefully disguised look, knowing and observing, almost warning me. I could feel her cackling.

"And I'm the Soul King!" she grinned. "You are so into him that we can't even talk about his general appearance without you getting carried away. You perv, Ichigo."

I didn't answer her. She had her own comedy-club and the fact that it was on my expense was kinda sordid. I cast down my eyes and crossed my arms. The room was suddenly eerily silent as Yoruichi-san noticed that I didn't rise to the bait. And that was simply because I couldn't because it was true.

"Yoruichi-san, do you think I'm the one that make him so cold?" I asked quietly. She scooted closer and laid her arm around my shoulders. "I have no clue what to do. He hates me half the time anyways."

"I think he hates you about as much as you hate him." she said and looked at me.

I hated Ishida periodically, but never for more than hours at a time.

"You should tell him. It's very unlikely he's going to be the one who breaks this silence."

I looked her in the eyes and I couldn't help thinking back to Phy. Ed today.

"I think I might be a little late." I admitted with the same defeated air as Ishida had displayed today.

Yoruichi-san smiled a little and then swatted me over the head. "Cheer up, Ichigo. But you should go get him before anybody else sees what you see. Go on!"

I stood from the polished floor-boards of the Urahara Shop and exited through the front doors. I turned to thank her, but she had already vanished. I saw the tail of a black cat disappear through a window.

I sighed and went home.

Somehow, and I swear I don't know how, I ended up outside Ishida's apartment. I'd been there once before. Inoue had to pick up some book or something and had asked if I had wanted to join her. She had asked me out for coffee. And had then confessed her feelings to me.

Inoue had smiled a strangely sad, yet happy smile when she'd told me, like getting it off her chest had been the utmost importance over whether or not I accepted it. She had looked at me like she already knew she didn't need any more than to tell me.

I now stood in front of his building, unsure of how to proceed. I could almost taste the anticipation, the nerves. I had no idea why I was so jittery, why my hands shook lightly, or why I hesitated to ring the doorbell.

I read the names of the inhabitants and owners, looking for Ishida's name. Ninth floor. It just said ninth floor. It was the penthouse. Fuck me. I'd thought I might've been able to throw a stone to his window or something. It made me smile a little.

He would've looked out his window with a frown, confused at what was happening. The tapping would wake him up, he would go to the window and see me standing beneath. He would go downstairs because he knows I'm a stubborn bastard and I wouldn't stop throwing stones until he responded. He would sneak out, his father's disapproval tinting the apartment, but he'd put on a light jacket nevertheless and toe on a pair of sneakers and close the door, pretending his father doesn't know what he's doing.

He would sneak down the stairs, going faster and faster until he reached the bottom. He would stop. Just before reaching the door, wondering what he was doing, debating with himself whether or not he should go back upstairs. I didn't know he was less than a few meters from me, still looking up at the window, fingering another stone. He could go back and pretend he never came down. But he would curse himself for even thinking of giving in to his father.

He knew it was a challenge he couldn't not rise to.

Just as I would be about to throw the next stone, he would open the door and step out as if he didn't just run down at least six flights of stairs. He would pretend that he had come down because the neighbors would be furious if it didn't stop. I would know better and so would he.

I sighed and walked out in front of the building again. That's how I hoped it would've played out. But that would require that we were on the same page. Yoruichi-san had more or less said he liked me too. She tried being obscure and shit, but contrary to popular belief I do see through those kinds of smoke and mirrors.

Something clicked behind me. I turned to find Ishida standing in the door.

We both stood and did nothing but let the mercury-streetlights buzz, let the wind push the bugs and the dust around, let the clouds roll over us, let the seconds swallow each other.

Ishida looked like he wanted to say something. He was wearing a pair of sneakers and a light jacket. Underneath was a plain white t-shirt and he wore some dark blue shorts with two stripes down the thighs. He played into my hopes with even the most minor details.

I hadn't needed to throw stones because he could feel my _Reiatsu_ as per usual.

I stepped forward and towards him. He opened the door a little more and I took his invitation. We took the building's elevator; I hadn't accounted for one of those, somehow it seemed more like Ishida to take the stairs.

We stood in silence, looking at anything but each other. I watched the buttons, Ishida the floor-numbers lighting up. He bit his lip. I caught the gesture out of the corner of my eye and it made my cheeks heat slightly. I didn't want to think about what I wanted to do to him. With him. For him.

When we reached the ninth floor, he stepped out with casual movements laced with stiffness, as if he tried to either appear calm or to make himself believe that he was. He looked at me over his shoulder and met my eyes. They were so blue, anxious yet calm.

We stood in a little foyer, white marble on the floor, off-white walls with black panels. A single potted plant, a red gladiolus, if I wasn't mistaken entirely. It looked as impersonal as an advertisement for interior decoration.

Ishida opened the door and stepped inside, I followed with easy steps. Like Ishida I tried to hide the feeling of jittery fireflies inside my veins and restless June bugs underneath my skin. I felt like I shone with nervousness and uneasiness, but Ishida said nothing - as always, I hated to admit – and didn't seem to notice.

He toed of his sneakers and continued inside barefooted. I followed suit, to tightly wound to do anything but what Ishida silently allowed me to do.

Inside the apartment was not much better than the outside. Glass panes as walls between the living room and the hallway, with a meter exactly between them, the kitchen hidden behind the same matted panes. Dark wooden floors, sleek white furniture, dark brown tables and cabinets. Everything was streamlined, everything was in its place, and everything seemed placed with the aid of a ruler. There was no inclination that who ever lived here had children. No memorabilia, no children's drawings or pictures of the family itself.

The only thing that revealed that the apartment was an actual living space and not another spread in a magazine dedicated to the perfect designer home was the books that were displayed on the different surfaces. The titles varied from the traditional classics to the most radical new publish.

At my house there were constant reminders that we were a family, that our father loved us and that our mother watched over us. Messy, but full of life. My house was a home. Ishida's place was a fish tank, void of anything that could make you feel at home.

I walked with him to his room. Ishida's father was nowhere to be seen. Either he was in his study, I could only imagine a man as rigid as he'd been described to me, having his own study, or he was staying late at the hospital. Though it was well past midnight, I wouldn't expect anything else from a workaholic. A trait Ishida had inherited.

He opened the room in an almost solemn way, like he didn't want anything less than have my judgments rain down upon him.

It was small and messy. Cramped with books, sewing-equipment, and CD's and writing utensils. A pile of sheet-music, a violin, a camera and books on outer space was claiming his desk, his school clothes hung up neatly but his other pants and shirts thrown on the bed. Magazines about photography, music and newest literature, reviews and recommendations were splayed on his pillow.

I looked at the violin again and had to swallow a minor lump. "Do you play the violin?"

He shrugged and started clearing his room. Methodically, like a spider making its web, did Ishida pack away, stack and move his belongings until it didn't look like guerilla warfare was an actual concern.

I stood awkwardly while he set about his task, not knowing what to do with myself. I settled for watching Ishida instead.

His shoulder blades were easily visible beneath his t-shirt and they kept demanding attention as he moved. His hair brushed his nape and seemed like it caressed and soothed him, while his hands worked with ease and elegance. His legs were constantly moving about, his pale, long legs that may or may not have appeared wrapped around my hips in recent fantasies.

Okay, watching Ishida was a horrible idea. It made me feel strange and made my blood rush someplace other than my head.

I looked up to avoid Ishida. I narrowed my eyes in wonder when I saw what he had tagged to his ceiling. Glow in the dark stars peered down from the white plaster and made a little smile appear on my lips. Thinking about Ishida did that to me.

Nowhere was safe to look. Either I looked at Ishida and had my legs turned to Jell-O, my thoughts dizzied and my hormones raging, or I looked around and was smiling like an idiot because I was so close to him and his world and what he thought.

I took to looking out the window instead. The light pollution outside made the stars difficult to see, but the moon was clearly visible in the sky. He had a balcony, I realized then. A rather spacious and very nice balcony, facing west, away from the center of Karakura and towards the mountains and forests surrounding us, making it possible to follow the train that winded its way away from this place.

I turned to say something, but the words died in my throat as I was met Ishida's eyes. It did things to my pulse and innards and I did my best not to let it show. My host let out a breath as he gestured to his bed. I looked positively like a deer caught in the headlights.

He rolled his eyes and fell down on the bed and covered his eyes, groaning. "Why is it so hard to talk to you?"

"Because you don't?"

"Because you asked me to shut up when I tried."

He sat up and sighed, it sounded like resignation personified. I sat down next to him. I stared at him and he stared at the moon.

"You thirsty?" he asked and got up. It didn't seem to matter or not whether I was thirsty, I got up too and walked with him to the kitchen.

It was very well-lit, steel-finished appliances and dark wooden counters. An island with barstools stood facing the living room and on it was a bowl with fruit. Ishida opened the fridge and pulled out a jug with ice tea and found two glasses from the cabinets.

He poured the two glasses and gave me one, sat on one of the barstools and asked me with his hand to take the other. I did as I was gestured and sat down with as quietly as I could. I looked at Ishida while he sat and picked at his nails and stared at the glass like it had asked him the riddle of the universe.

I looked around again and found that there were no personal touches, whatsoever. The fridge was bare, not even a magnet clung to it, the countertops were bare, no dishes in the sink, again a ghost-town of an apartment. And yet, it was one of the most cozy places I had ever been and I suspected it was because of who sat across for me. I felt jittery again and reached out for the glass to steel my fingertips. I took a sip and swallowed.

When another five minutes had passed and Ishida had yet to move, I went to take a piece of fruit to eat while I waited, the ice tea gone by then. Nerves make me fidgety and when I fidget I usually go for something to eat or drink.

Ishida looked up at me then and his eyes tracked my hand as I took an orange from the bowl. He suddenly made direct eye-contact, which I broke in favor of peeling the orange.

This was not at all how I had thought it would go.

I peeled the orange and let my hands do nothing but skin the fruit in my hand.

"Why did you come here?"

"I don't know." I answered honestly. I had gotten home and had done nothing but sit at my desk and mull over Yoruichi-san's advice. If you could call that piece of shit of a pep talk advice. It had made my evening without purpose and it had taken me a few hours before I had grown weary of sitting and had headed out. My feet had taken me where I had wanted to go, where I needed to be but where I thought I was unwelcome.

I ate a piece of orange, the juice running down my fingers. Ishida leaned over and took a piece. He hadn't touched his ice tea. He took a bite and a single drop made its way down from his lips. His tongue appeared and took the stray drop with it.

I swallowed again and took another piece into my mouth.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, like I wasn't there almost. Like he forced himself because he knew that every attempt we'd ever made at conversation had ended in failure.

I thought it over. I wanted to talk about everything he would let me talk about. I would let him talk about almost everything. I didn't have as much a subject as I had a time, and that's what I told him.

"I wanted to talk to you when I lost my powers, and when I got them back. I wanted to talk to you after you lost your powers and when you got them back. I wanted to talk about that with you."

I let the: "But apparently you didn't." hang in the air. Ishida looked at me with a small frown and then sighed.

"I didn't like the pity in your eyes when I lost my powers, I didn't like your funny comments about the Espada when I tried to get them back. I was under the assumption you had other people to talk to when you lost yours and I was told to shut up when you got them back."

I was just about to protest when he held up a single finger, asking me to stay quiet.

"That being said, I wanted to tell you that it gets better. You find other things to occupy yourself with; I started with the violin for example. But that doesn't change that when you get your powers back, it's like your whole again. And then the burdens come and you wonder why you even agreed to have them returned, why normalcy couldn't satisfy you and why you had to surrender your youth to saving a world that isn't a part of yours, but then again has everything to do with your life."

He took a sip of the ice tea.

"All my life I had identified with being a Quincy, it was the foundation of who I was and suddenly I had that no longer. I felt empty and useless. I could still sense and see and it made that more of a relentless reminder that I couldn't do anything to help."

"I know! I mean, I couldn't see them and I've never really been able to sense them, but I was so emerged in Soul Society, I swear, I could almost see Rukia and Renji sometimes. It was weird seeing you doing all those things that used to be my thing. And doing them alone. I always wondered why you did that."

Ishida looked puzzled at me. "Because I didn't need help."

I simply stared at him. Sometimes I forgot how much of a self-righteous attitude he could produce when he wanted to. I lifted my eyebrows quickly.

"You're really full of yourself sometimes."

"It has nothing to do with ego. There was no need to involve Inoue-san and Sado-kun when I could handle it by myself. There was no need for all three of us to be absent from classes and miss lectures. I am the better fighter of the three of us and the more experienced between the four of us. I've fought Hollows since I was twelve, I fought Arrancar and Espada at fifteen, I think I can handle regular run on the mill Hollows at seventeen without a chaperone." He snapped and looked away.

I waited him out. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to have time to think before he spoke. I ate another piece of orange and kept my eyes down.

"I wanted to tell you that you were ridiculous for bringing weaker people with you, myself included, and expect them to do what you did. I wanted to tell you to stop believing so much in all of us, because surely you were only going to be disappointed. And then I found out why you do, place so much trust in your friends that is."

"And why's that?" I asked and put my elbows on the table. I couldn't help the little lopsided smile that made its way onto my face.

"Because then they have something to fight for. Faith is a powerful thing. In France it can move mountains. You have it in your friends, they have it in you; you give them a mountain to move."

"What about you?" I asked. If he didn't think I'd noticed, the poignant use of they instead of we, he'd underestimated me and that wasn't like Ishida, to underestimate someone.

"What about me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What made you fight in the Winter War? And don't say pride, because we both know that's not true." I said with a hint of joking in my tone. I didn't want to start another fight with him. I looked from the tabletop to him.

He looked completely stricken, like I had caught him with his hand in the cookie-jar. He was about to answer or deny the question, when suddenly his eyes grew distant and his head veered to the left.

"What is it?" I asked, knowing that look.

He got up and raced around the corner, saying: "Hollow. I can handle it."

I got up anyways. If he thought he was leaving me in the most impersonal apartment of ever, he had another thing coming. I ran after him, up a staircase that led to the rooftop.

The door was open already and the spacious rooftop had been converted to a resting area with pool and garden furniture, clay-pots of green vegetation stood and gave a small amount of life the place.

The pool was quietly lapping away, turquoise and cerulean, a Caribbean blue to the dark azure of the sky, lit beneath the water's surface. Ishida had already drawn his bow and stood with the cityscape in front of him. He looked positively serene. Calm, stoic and beautiful in the light from the water and the light from the neon and mercury. I stepped up to him and watched the city with him.

"I don't need your help, Kurosaki." He informed me again and let out a breath.

"Where is it?" I asked instead. I wasn't sure if his aim was good enough to hit the target from this distance. It was quite far after all.

"Above the City Hall." He answered quietly and fired the arrow. It flew fast and precisely through the air. I saw the spirit particles dissolve in the distance, nothing but a shimmering light, but I knew the arrow pierced the Hollow directly in the heart.

"Another's approaching." He said and looked across the pool. He drew his bow again, the blue light from the pool and the Quincy-weapon giving his face an angelic but deadly sheen.

The second the Hollow appeared in front of the building he fired. No mercy, no waste of time.

Suddenly, he turned around and aimed the bow at my shoulder. I stood completely still as he let go of the arrow. It cut through the air right next to me ear, I could practically hear the arrow humming, and feel the slipstream lick my lobe.

The Hollow screamed behind me, but all I could focus on was the closeness of the Quincy in front of me. I swallowed. We stood like that for a heartbeat, until his snapped and looked into my collarbone instead of my face.

I almost had to put physical restraints on myself not to lean forward and kiss him. That lasted exactly 0.8 seconds before he turned his head again.

"Another?" I questioned a little bewildered at the scattered force. He narrowed his eyes and waited. The arrow was already formed, but he hadn't made aim. He didn't know where it was. That was new.

I found my Substitute Soulreaper's Batch and forced my soul out of my body. Which fell into the pool. Ishida snickered and let his guard down for two seconds at most, enough for the Hollow to catch him wrong-footed.

"Ishida!" I shouted into the empty air. The Quincy appeared on top of the cover for the door and stairs. I flash stepped over and stood in the bare air above him.

"Behind you." He stated and used his weird Quincy flash step to get behind the first Hollow. He fired three arrows, all three missed.

I turned and found a white mask staring back at me. I got out _Zangetsu_ and swung the sword. The Hollow disintegrated without further problems. I kept my distance to Ishida and his Hollow. It kept dodging the arrows, like it knew where he was going to shoot them.

It was a treat watching Ishida fight. He was elegance personified. He looked almost like a dancer, lithe and confident in his own body and what he expected from it. It looked a little strange without his Quincy attire, without being bathed in white.

I flash stepped above the Hollow and surprised it from above.

"I told you I didn't need your help." He stated when we landed.

"Sure you didn't, Ishida." I countered. I jumped in the pool to retrieve my body. I dragged up to the edge and tried placing it. Ishida put a hand on its shoulder to keep it there. He avoided my eyes when I tried thanking him.

When I merged with my body again, he removed his hands immediately.

"Ishida, wait!" I called out and got a hold of his ankles. Which was a horrible idea, really. Ishida lost balance, almost falling flat on his stomach, except he managed to take a step backwards, trying to steady himself. There was nothing but the edge-tiles of the pool, slick and wet. He lost his footing and fell in the pool.

My mouth was hanging open, panic making its way into my features, surely. He surfaced, sputtering and soaking like myself. He'd lost his glasses.

"Ishida, you okay?" I tried cautiously. In the half-light of the pool, broken by the water and given other direction, the play on Ishida's face was gorgeous. I swallowed again.

"I lost my glasses." he stated matter-of-factly. I looked down at the bottom, trying to spot them. Ishida continued to wipe his face and eyes with his hands. They were on the tiles closest to Ishida's bare feet. I took a deep breath and went down to get them.

My hand brushed his ankle, but he remained still. I carefully palmed the lenses and returned to the surface.

Ishida stood with his eyes closed still and his hands down his sides, waiting for me. At least, that's what I thought, hoped, he was doing.

"How bad are your eyes?" I asked as I got in front of him, straightening the glasses.

"Without glasses I can't see much else than shapes, movement and light."

I slid the glasses back on his face, just before they came to rest on his nose, he opened his eyes. My hands couldn't help but linger.

"Never considered getting contacts?" I inquired, trying to sound carefree, but failing miserable. I moved some of the ebony strands that stuck to his face, pushing them away from his face.

He nodded slowly and swallowed. He stared up at me again. It was almost all we had, looks, stares and quick, fleeting meetings of eyes. But somehow, those quick seconds seemed to bring us a few steps closer to the abyss we were headed for, where we were headed for each other.

I leant forward and pressed my lips onto his. Nothing elaborate, just trying to convey that I fancied the fucking balls out of him. Oddly how I couldn't go about this like I usually would, loud and direct.

Ishida froze beneath my mouth, didn't move, didn't flinch, but didn't respond either.

I broke away and moved his bangs out of his face again.

From the water came a pale, slender hand, dripping wet and trembling slightly. It grasped my t-shirt and pulled me down towards him. Nothing rushed, but calm, quiet. Everything that Ishida was and I wasn't.

When we met this time, it was with far more enthusiasm from both of us. Ishida may have initiated, but somehow he ended up being the one responding. My hand slid down from his jaw, down his neck and shoulder and came to rest on his upper-arm. The other kept going, slowly tracing his ribs, his side, his hip. I pushed him closer and he complied.

Ishida's mouth, holy shit! It was good for speaking Spanish, good for snapping and bickering and definitely good for kissing. He hit mine off-center, kissing the corner of my mouth instead. I took the invitation to move down his jaw and neck. He gave me space, leaning his head to the side.

His other hand came up from the water and settled on my shoulder, gently massaging it. I couldn't help but hum and I almost felt the slight smile on Ishida's face.

I withdrew and waited for no longer than two seconds before he came seeking my mouth again. It was almost like leading a thirsting man to a well and letting him drink. I had no intention of pulling away and leaving Ishida in the pool alone, fuck no, I just needed to know that he wasn't doing anything he didn't want to. And it did wonders for my ego having him willingly initiating.

And then his tongue did something where it half licked, half coerced, half beckoned mine, half guided teeth, and I completely lost it. I pressed him closer, Ishida almost whimpered, wrapped one of those God given legs around my knees for closeness or anchor and held tighter.

I let my tongue try and was easily granted permission. Ishida opened his mouth and let me give everything I could possibly give. He had wrapped his arms around my shoulders both and I had both hands on his waist now and by God, I could write sonnets about that waist!

I lifted him up and he wrapped both legs around me, his inner thighs holding on to my hips. I had to look up then, and he had to look down, but it didn't change the fervor with which we attacked each other's mouths.

The water kept him light, but I still found myself walking towards the edge. I had no idea if it was because I wanted to pin him – because oh my God, that wouldn't bother me at all – or because I wanted to support him further, I really couldn't tell you. All I knew was that kissing Ishida was probably my favorite thing in the world.

Because never mind how it felt physically, my toes curling, my hands itching, my head spinning, my pulse rushing, my heart clenching, my lips buzzing; I felt like a was going to explode from overheating. I felt my senses clear, like they'd been dulled or restricted; I felt the sky pressing down above me, and the ground beneath me disappear. I felt so many things and thought so very, very little. I let my hands trace his spine and felt the muscles shift beneath the skin; it made my eyes bleed for more.

Not that the drenched white t-shirt left much for the imagination, but the fabric clung to him in all the right and all the wrong places. Because all the places it was like second skin it was as it should be, but all the places it didn't, it was an abomination.

And his hips. Jesus, those wiry and prominent hips.

And the legs. Fuck, the legs were everything a spectacular pair of legs should be. Slender, lithe, but practically unbreakable.

How nobody, and especially myself, hadn't noticed Ishida's sex-appeal before was astounding.

And then I remembered Grimmjow.

"Ishida?" I asked, when pulling back for breath. He cast his eyes down. "Yeah?"

"About the whole "Espadas the only ones who would find you attractive thing" I just wanted to say that I'm in total disagreement with myself."

"I noticed." He deadpanned. As he was floating over me, I realize exactly where he's placed. I start to redden, I know, but Ishida places his left hand on my cheek and kisses my forehead, my frown.

"You frown too much, Kurosaki." He observes. I smiled a little smile, not meaning to let him know how much that actually bothered me that he thought I frowned too much.

"But you also worry too much."

I looked up at him again and saw a strange glint in his eyes, something very close to a warm summer breeze or sand between your fingers at the beach, sunrays filtering between leaves or the stars actually shining through the neon of the city.

Something very much like gazing upon what you could see and love, but never touch and never hold.

He leaned forward again and let his forehead rest against mine.

"Come on. We'll catch a cold." He removed his hands from me and heaved himself up from the pool. I reached out and I took the offered hand and got up as well.

"You really know how to kill the mood." I joked. He chuckled lightly and I couldn't help my smile growing a little as he did, knowing I had been the reason for his mirth.

I reached out and took his hand in mine, not wanting to sever our connection prematurely. Ishida's fingers grasped mine lightly and I could almost feel the string-like scars that ran across them.

He led me inside and never once let go of my hand.

I woke up the next morning, looking into Ishida's sleeping face. I couldn't help the smile that crept up on my lips. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Not like when he drew his bow, then he simmered with murderous intent and steel-blue resolve, but now all pretense had faltered and his chest was gently rising and falling. His left hand, the one Ulqiorra had torn off and Inoue had restored, was resting on his chest, the sun gently brushing his cheek.

And that's how I woke up the day after I kissed Ishida for the first time.

Kurosaki was oddly silent when I woke up. He looked at me like he'd been staring at a painting and first then saw the motive. I sat up and stretched, glanced out the window. He stayed down in the sheets; I could feel the weight of his eyes on me. I turned around and met them as I would a Hollow, without fear, without hesitation. I prayed to whatever deity I knew that he wouldn't see the quivering of my fingers, the uneasiness of my shoulders.

His eyes sucked up the sunshine and returned it as gold and amber, sunsets over the ocean and the raven's eyes. I couldn't help but swallow. It was like having a fire in your palm, having it kiss instead of bite and caress instead of licking.

"Good morning. Sleep okay?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. I still had a slight difficulty believing I hadn't been dreaming the kiss, kisses in plural I should say, in the pool.

He nodded and gave me a half-smile. "You sure it's okay? Me staying over? For your dad, I mean."

I avoided the questions in his face, looking away. "He's at a medical conference in Kyoto. He won't be home until next week."

And as sappy it may sound, he had a point. Ryuuken probably wouldn't approve of a Death God in his apartment, less in my bed. It was sort of Romeo and Juliet, but with spiritual entities instead of Italians and less murder and suicide. Actually, it wasn't like Romeo and Juliet at all.

"You okay?" he asked, watching my expressions change with my thoughts. This time I nodded in response and got up, picked up a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on. I could feel his _reiatsu_ flair as I bend down and simmer down as the pants came to shield my skin.

I'd slept without pants but with a shirt, Kurosaki had slept with pants, but no shirt. Sometimes our differences were annoyingly plain to see.

We went to the kitchen where I opened the fridge and decided upon a glass of ice tea. I poured a glass and sat on the seat Kurosaki had occupied yesterday. Our glasses were still there; I hadn't bothered to remove them.

"Help yourself to some breakfast." I asked and gestured to the kitchen.

"That's all you're having?" he pointed disbelieving at my ice tea. I took another dignified sip to let him know that yes, it was. He rolled his eyes and began rummaging through the fridge.

Maybe our first morning together wasn't filled with mindless chatter, but the air didn't seem as tense as yesterday. But I suppose you could still use a knife to cut through the sexual tension.

Bastard hadn't bothered putting on a shirt. At least I had been considerate like that.

As he'd searched the kitchen for ingredients, cutlery, pan, toaster and plates, he'd sometimes bent down and Goddammit! He might've been glaring blatantly at my ass and legs, but as he stood, making eggs and toast, I couldn't help but stare at his back and shoulders.

But holy shit! I knew Kurosaki was strong and all that, he'd carried me yesterday as we'd made out as the horny teenagers we are, sure he had the water helping him, but he'd done it none the less. And from my current position I could see every muscle, sinew and tendon move as he made his breakfast.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Ryuuken had insisted we had one that faced the kitchen. When he cooked he liked to watch the news and when he cooked it oftentimes took hours. It was a passion of his, cooking. One I hadn't inherited.

Kurosaki turned to see where the noise was coming from, made a little frown and continued to fry his eggs sunny side up. He dished it up and pushed a plate over to me.

"Eat." He said and dug into his own plate. I couldn't help but smile a little. My father only cooked for himself. I don't know if it was because I kept disappointing him and that was his revenge.

At this point it had become Pavlov's Hound without food.

I took a mouthful out of politeness. I really wasn't hungry in the mornings.

"How is it?" he asked, looking a little nervous as he did. As if my entire opinion of our future relationship hinged upon whether or not I liked the eggs. I smiled, which then turned into a quiet grin, and then to chuckling.

Kurosaki's own smile started spreading and suddenly we were laughing like the idiots I always thought he was and never considered myself as.

"They're fine." I ended up providing, smiling stupidly.

"Good."

We sat across from each other and whenever our eyes would meet we'd start laughing, giggling, chuckling, cackling. I don't even know why, but it felt so good being able to just not frown and be serious in front of him.

I even ate half the plate in front of me, accomplishment of dimensions, I'd said. I cleared the dishes and while I cleaned up the mess he'd left, I felt him tracking me with his eyes.

"What are we, Ishida?" he asked then. I closed the dishwasher and turned it on.

"I mean, we kissed last night. Does that like, make us in a relationship? 'Cause Mizuiro does that all the time. Y'know. Kissing and not being in a relationship afterwards."

I turned around and lent on the counter, watching him with a careful expression. He wasn't meeting my eye and I started feeling a lump in my throat. Shit, shit, shit. He was backtracking. I felt my chest tighten and I swallowed hard. My knuckles were turning white.

My pulse was speeding up as I waited for him to continue. He didn't look to comfortable and why would he? He was Kurosaki Ichigo. He disliked hurting people close to him even though he did so unintentionally all the time.

"Will you say something?" he said and looked at me with close to pleading eyes. It was strange seeing this usually majestic aura around him flicker in uncertainty. Kurosaki was never uncertain.

"Like what?" I asked. My hands were clutching the tabletops so hard I wouldn't be surprised to find indentations in the wood later.

"Goddammit, Ishida! I'm asking whether or not you wanna be in a relationship."

I simply stared at him. Oh.

"With me." He added.

I couldn't help but look down and smile a little at that. I swallowed again, feeling him come closer to me.

"Answer? Please?"

I didn't trust my voice at all so I settled for nodding.

Suddenly two hands were framing my face and I was being kissed like tomorrow might never come over us again and while I closed my eyes and wrapped a hand around his waist, I couldn't help but smile like the idiot I'd been infected with.

Dating Ishida was far easier than I had thought it would be. We spend the entire weekend together, lounging about. He forced me to do homework at some point where the cheater had already done his and refusing blankly to help with mine.

"I'm not dating a retard, Kurosaki. I know you know this." had been his excuse. We'd been together for approximately three hours at that point.

He sat back and read a book while I cursed everything mathematically. I hadn't brought my schoolwork of course, so I ended up borrowing Ishida's. And even though it was filled with notes and little squiggles, even a doodle of Kagine-sensei shouting and fussing (Which I may or may not have taken a mental picture of because it was the most hilarious fucking thing ever) I still understood exactly zero percent of the assignment.

"I don't get it. I don't. I guess you're dating a retard." It felt good saying that. Not the retard part, but the dating part. In relation to him and me, it was delightful.

"What part?" he asked. I pointed to the accursed formula and saw him smile a little. He took the pencil from my hand, as if was taking an infant from its mother.

He started slowly, explaining to me what differentiability meant and what functions it had. Ishida drew careful graphs, wrote neat formulas, calm and quiet as he set about correcting the mistake that had made it impossible for me to finish the assignment correctly.

I couldn't take my eyes of him. Even though he was explaining math to me, I couldn't help but stare at him and follow his lips and his hands, but never looking at what he wrote.

When Ishida had finished his explanation and sat back I felt horribly wronged by the universe, really. I looked down and found the exercise completed in theory, but all the calculations were missing and somehow it made perfect sense, even though I'd only listened to his voice.

I loved hearing that voice after so long.

And this was how my relationship with Ishida began.

The days came and went. Ishida and I had been dating for approximately a week. We had spent the entirety of those nights holed up in his apartment, his father returning the following Monday, we might as well get the most out of the privacy provided.

We had met up on the roof during every break that allowed it, when I hadn't been detained by Keigo asking what I was doing and when Ishida wasn't called in to emergency Student Council Meetings. Honestly, how many emergencies this school could have would constantly baffle me, but when I asked Ishida he just said such things came in all shapes and sizes.

A common denominator throughout the week was the looks, the smiles that followed and the relaxed feeling of being three steps away from the edge. Chad had sent me knowing looks after the first five minutes of class and Inoue had smiled a strange, but gleeful smile after first period.

You'd think that when we spent every minute in each other's presence groping, kissing, touching, that the sexual tension would be diminished. But no. It was still coursing through my veins whenever he rubbed against me in a different way, when he bit his lips, when he smirked, when a sliver of skin showed.

I could feel myself become red-faced when we had Phy. Ed. and a drop of sweat would track his temple, cheekbone and jaw. And I felt myself become jealous of a drop of water. I know I really couldn't sink any deeper.

When Friday came around, Ishida and I had managed to contain ourselves the entire day as both Keigo and Mizuiro had cornered me during lunch and Ishida had a school-board meeting to plan and secure. When last period pushed the hands of the clock we both sat sending each other quick glances. The minutes dragged themselves along, the seconds becoming deadweight and the clock face looking more and more disgruntled by the minute.

The bell resounded through the hallways and every single student in the school immediately stood, packing up, ready for the weekend.

Ishida and I packed our things slowly. This way we avoided unwanted questions and attention. Besides, if they hadn't figured it out already, we really couldn't be bothered.

And then the Badge went off. Ishida's phone started beeping and Inoue and Chad came back into the classroom.

"A Hollow?" Ishida asked, looking at his phone and then out the window.

"What?" Inoue looked just as confounded as the Quincy.

"Come on. Where to, Ishida?" I slung my back over my shoulders. Leaving my body now would only result in having it locked in. I speak from experience.

"I . . . I have no idea." He replied, looking thoroughly distraught. We ran outside, listening after the tell-tale howl. The screeching sound rung clear through the air and we all stormed in the given direction.

We didn't make it further than the sports field. The Hollow materialized right above us and Ishida wasted no time summoning his bow and firing an arrow. It missed.

"How did you miss? It's five meters away from you!" I shouted and pushed out of my body.

"I don't know, I was sure . . ." and his bow began wavering. I let go of a _Getsuga Tensho_ to create some distance while I got to the Quincy.

"What's happening?"

"It's confusing the Spirit Particles. I can't hold on to my bow like this." He dispersed of the weapon, looking to Inoue and Chad. "You didn't feel it either?"

They nodded in response. I started to understand how much shit this meant.

"I probably can't use _Hierenkyaku_ either." He mumbled and looked to where my _Getsuga Tensho_ was supposed to have cut the ground in half. There was no trace of any damage done. Even more pressing, the Hollow had disappeared too.

"Are you kidding me?"

"This means melee is the only thing we've got. I'm not sure how it affects Inoue-san's abilities, but for now, Sado-kun, Kurosaki, you're on your own." Ishida admonished and let his eyes be hidden behind a glare in his glasses. He always had a flair for the melodramatic.

I was just about to tell him when a roar sounded above us. Before we could do anything, the Hollow swung its tail and let it sweep over the dirt. A cloud of dust rose and obscured the Hollow.

"Ishida?!" I called out.

"We're fine, keep moving!" I heard and did as I was told. I didn't really take this as a handicap. I usually fought without the aid of feeling _reiatsu_ and I didn't use _Getsuga Tensho_ as an essential part of my fighting routine. It had to suck to be Ishida right now.

"Watch out!" Inoue shouted, the tail came veering from my right. It hit me in the ribs, sending me across the baseball field in one smooth motion. Inoue appeared quickly and looked me over. I told her it was only going to be a few bruises, nothing serious.

"Inoue!" Chad called out and the Hollow came at us again. Suddenly Ishida stepped in front of us, a bat in his hand and swung it against the Hollow's mask. The mask cracked and the bat splintered, but the claws sought him instead of us and Ishida ran off to the right.

I called out for him, but received no answer. I picked up _Zangetsu_ and followed him into the dust cloud. My ribs screamed with every move I made but I couldn't pay them any attention until I had any to spare. The Hollow roared to my left and I jumped into the air, hoping the improved view would help me.

I found the Hollow easily enough. I let myself fall and prepared to slice through it when Yoruichi-san appeared in front of it and broke its mask with a single hit.

Ishida stood just beside the pitch, unharmed and observing. I had no idea my entrails had been coiled as tight as they had. Seeing him with a few scrapes as the only injuries, after having a Hollow he was ultimately powerless against hunt him, had me sigh in relief.

"Ichigo? You okay?" she asked, looking up to me, with her yellow, cat-like eyes. I nodded and landed next to her. Inoue came up to us and summoned the healing shield around me, within a few minutes I was fine. I smiled and thanked her. She nodded brightly.

"Ishida?" he nodded as well. The Quincy looked to his hand and a small frown appeared.

"I don't think this is over." He said and looked to me. And the minute the words left his lips, a hand came out and grabbed his shoulder.

"I think you're right, Ishida-kun. But without powers, shouldn't you stay here?" Urahara-san asked him, locking eyes with me. The Quincy nodded once and folded his arms.

"We wouldn't want an encore of the last time you decided to fight with no powers."

"Wha-?" Ishida didn't finish his sentence, let alone the word before another piercing scream ran through the trees above us.

Hollows appeared by the dozens and without further ado, Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san began attacking them while defending the four of us. I quickly joined them, soon to be accompanied by Chad. Inoue had gone to Ishida who kept looking rather puzzled, yet dangerously close to an epiphany. It made him look rather terrifying.

I slashed through two Hollows before I landed in his vicinity again, prompting me to look to him, share eye contact for a brief moment before another one appeared to my left and forced me to leave the Quincy's side.

"Look out!" I heard him shout and suddenly he'd tackled me to the ground, breathing heavily and looking me straight in the eye. He hurriedly got up and pulled me with him.

"Go right." He ordered and I did as I was told. I didn't know if he had a plan or just thought right was a generally more pleasing direction than left was, but I went right and thus avoided the swipe of a Hollow's tail.

I ran back to him again, looking questioningly at him.

"They're easy to predict, but hard to fight if you use _Reiatsu _as your primary weapon." He explained and brushed some dirt of his shirt. I couldn't help but smirk.

"What?"

"Nothing." I answered shaking my head a little. Another Hollow appeared above me and I exchanged a quick glance with Ishida.

"Left." He said. "Keep left and you'll have your opening."

Then he turned and ran for cover. I kept moving left, finding that Ishida had been right. Soon enough I could stab it through the stomach and it spread into the telltale shimmer of spirit particles.

Chad came to my side and we watched as Yoruichi-san took out the last Hollow. Ishida and Inoue appeared as well on the other side of the pitch.

"Be careful, Ichigo." Chad declared suddenly. My look of confusion was probably what triggered him into elaborating.

"Ishida. Be careful with him." He stated and waited a beat. I nodded, not quite knowing what else to do. What did he think? That Ishida was some quick flirt? I had to admit I wasn't ready to put a ring on it or anything, less saying the L-word or go on firstname-basis, but I did genuinely care about him. In more than a platonic way, that was. Hell, I fancied the fucking pants of him.

We all gathered in the middle of the field. Ishida stood clenching and unclenching his fists, looking patiently at Urahara-san.

"That was dangerous, wasn't it?" he asked, pulling out his fan.

"What did you mean before? What encore?" the Quincy much like he already had figured it out for himself.

"We wouldn't want you to get serenaded by a Hollow, Ishida. Again." Yoruichi-san answered and winked at him.

Ishida looked about ready to commit murder. He slowly deigned himself to look at me and I found I had a hard time breathing with that amount of intensity focused directly on me.

He broke it almost as fast as he'd zeroed in on me by turning sharply on his heel and almost marching away. Chad sent me a look that practically repeated his earlier statement as I chased after him.

"Was it something I said?" I heard Urahara-san say as I chased after Ishida.

"Ishida?" I called his name and looked around. He'd used his weird Quincy-curtain-leg thing and could really be anywhere. I sighed and retrieved my body before I set out for his apartment. I needed to start somewhere.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I was weary after battling Hollows, completely awake with the possibility that I might have to spend my weekend looking for Ishida and very much feeling my nerves tingling.

I knew he was angry with me. His look had told me as much.

As I reached his apartment complex, another resident was on their way out and I snuck in through the closing door. I hurried up the stairs towards the top of the building. I needed to burn some of the nervous energy out and I was sure that my current state would be faster than the elevator.

"Ishida!" I pounded on the door and shouted at the apartment.

I was just about to call his name again when the door opened and a less than impressed Ishida looked at me.

"You told everybody?" he didn't waste any time on pleasantries. He stepped aside and let me in. At least he was willing to talk about this. I hoped.

"I told Yoruichi-san. I needed someone to talk to. I had no idea what to do."

"About what?"

"This! You!"

He waited a beat before answering. His Adam's apple bopped and I felt the tension from the past week surreptitiously curl around me, trying to tie me up and leave me stranded. I followed the curve of Ishida's neck and quickly redirected my gaze to his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? You didn't know? I know you're stupid, but really? I could feel you stare at me when I bend over, but was that just because the thought of screwing me over was great?"

I wouldn't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind, but he made it sound like I was only in it for the physicality of the relationship and that I hadn't had any emotional problems to sort out. But I suppose it had been the best lead in all of this. It was the reason I'd laughed at him in the first place, because I couldn't deal with anybody seeing the same thing as I and actually doing something about it.

"I said I was sorry!"

I had. I'd said sorry in the pool that week ago. Right?

"No, you said you were in disagreement with your statement, at no point whatsoever did you express regret."

Trust Ishida to remember. I started chewing my bottomlip and I found Ishida staring at it, then licking the corner of his mouth. Goddammit, we were having our first fight and I couldn't think about anything but pinning him to the wall behind him and ravish every inch of him.

Pull yourself together, Ichigo!

"Alright I'm sorry." I choked out, looking directly at him. If I started lowering my eyes, I would only have his legs to fantasize about. Ishida seemed to take this as a challenge and not a matter of survival, though.

"For what? Publicly humiliating me or laughing at me as I was being harassed by an Espada?"

I could almost feel my lips and fingertips itch with tension that it seemed touching Ishida could defuse. And he looked as if he didn't feel much better himself. His hands were clenched and he'd started biting his lower lip like I'd done before.

"All of it. I'm sorry I didn't come to your rescue like a knight in shining armor! Is that what you want me to say? To apologize for not saving you when you don't do anything but tell not to? You know, you're really hard to figure out." I had meant to say it bombastically, but it came out quietly though infinitely more intense. And it had an impact on Ishida it seemed.

He almost shivered and I could see goosebumps spread across his arms and neck. Holy shit, I wanted to lick that away.

"Why don't you just leave then?"

I could feel my own heart skip a beat and I any or every word I'd had ready on my tongue vanished. I searched his face for any rebuttal, but none came.

"Okay."

I couldn't muster anything grander. I had thousands of thoughts whipping around in my head, thousands of words I could and should've spun together but not a single one could make it to my voice and from there none could tell Ishida what he wanted to hear.

I turned around and reached out for the handle.

"You're leaving?"

I looked back over my shoulder to find him looking at me with nothing akin to comprehension on his face. Instead he seemed unsure and surprised that I'd reached for the door.

"You just told me to."

"I didn't expect you to actually listen to me. You rarely do!"

We stood across one another. So close, yet so infinitely far apart. And it seemed that with every word I drove him farther and farther away. Like the cliff between us, where we didn't dare fall in, pulled us away from each other with every little thing we didn't understand.

"I'm listening now! It's not my fault you take everything so personally. Relax will'ya?"

Again, the cliff grew and Ishida's eyes avoided mine. I wanted to reach out for him, wanted to jump into the precipice if it meant he'd fall with me, in me.

We stood in silence and when he met my eyes, he looked about as ready as I was to fall headfirst into the darkness below.

"I really hate you sometimes."

I couldn't stop myself from crossing to him, take his hand and put my lips to his. Ishida responded by backing up, but begging me to follow. Which I didn't mind. If it meant I could stay like this with him it was fine.

It was one of the most intense kisses I'd ever had. Actually, the most intense kiss ever. I could feel Ishida's anger, his reluctance, his determination and his steadfast belief in himself, and I dare say me. It felt like falling. Like clinging to each other was the only thing to do unless we wanted to die alone.

I let go of his hands in favor of taking his hips and he wrapped his legs around mine, I pushed us both against the wall and Ishida let out a moan in surprise. He bit into my lips and I could feel the fire from the stars drop down around us like rain.

I let my hands dig into his thigh and took my right to his rear. Ishida rolled his hips and we both stopped dead in our tracks.

I separated my lips from his and looked him dead in the eye as I rolled mine and I could see Ishida bite his lips again. When did as I'd done, my head fell to his shoulders. It felt so incredibly good. My dick was not having any problems with this in the least and my head was buzzing and in the middle of this haze I couldn't do much else than connect with Ishida's mouth again and let the world fall to pieces around us.

Between the wall and my left hand, I could easily hold him up and so I let my right hand settle on his neck and let my fingers play with strands of ebony. Ishida's left leg slowly sank to the ground and his hands began wandering down my torso.

We broke apart for air again and we rested our foreheads together, breathing heavily, breathing as if we could breathe each other.

With inquisition, his fingers began to crawl up under my shirt and the touch – holy shit! – it felt like having sunshine dance around you the first day of summer, like having rain tease you in the drought or have music made physical and have it play against you.

I licked my lips and kissed him again. I had my right hand do the same, but before I could reach the skin of the archer, he pulled my shirt over my head. I only reached up to make it easier for him.

Ishida let his eyes wander greedily over my body and I couldn't help but smirk. He was still pinned against the wall, but he wasn't clinging onto me anymore. That meant I had both hands to do the same to him. We rid him of his shirt and suddenly we stood there both looking at each other seeing everything and absolutely nothing.

We came together again and this time, I decided that we needed to find a place where we could become horizontal. Needless to say, we didn't even make it to the couches.

I'd never been this turned on in my entire life. It was also the first time I'd ever done anything like this.

I could feel Ishida's arousal through his pants and it made me feel significantly proud that I'd been responsible for that.

We'd gotten down on the floor, I was holding myself above him in an effort not to seem to needy. In reality I wanted nothing more than to grind our bodies together, to move as one. I had no practical idea of how that was going to happen, but I knew it had to be possible.

"Wait a second." Ishida begged and I stopped. I looked at him, slightly scared – scared shitless – that I'd done something wrong and he was still mad at me.

He squirmed out under me and I had to admit that sent some thoughts directly to my groin. I watched him almost run through his apartment and into his room. I sat back on my heels and waited for him. He returned with a little bottle of something I quickly recognized as lube.

"You sure?" I swallowed. He nodded and stood awkwardly above me.

"Do you . . . wanna move or?" I asked, looking at him, then around and then back again. The mood had gone from heated to actual strange. We both knew we wanted it, hell, I could see my own erection through my pants let alone Ishida's, but I had no idea how to start it again.

Then Ishida sat down in my lap and took my head in his hands and looked me straight in the eyes.

"I'm still angry with you; don't think having sex is going to miraculously solve every problem we'll ever have. We'll have thousands of fights, Kurosaki, but I'm willing to figure it out. Are you?"

I nodded slowly, seriously and met him halfway. I knew my answer was in no way sufficient, but I'd never had the same way with words as Ishida and I wouldn't trust myself in the moment not to fuck up a simple yes. Besides, he was right. Sex didn't fix it. But it gave me an opportunity to show him how he affected my body and not only my eyes.

Ishida began toying with my belt and I held his waist in my hands. I couldn't help rocking with him as he began grinding against me. He'd put most of his weight on his knees, but enough of him rested in my lap and that allowed for that wonderful friction.

I started running my hands up and down his sides and with the small noises he made, those low, deep sounds from back in his throat, I felt the heat in my groin intensify.

My belt was opened and Ishida's deft hands set to work on my pant buttons. I could slowly feel the pressure on my cock be relieved as Ishida opened button after button.

My own hands had gotten down to cup and knead the archer's ass and had him lift a little from my lap. I moaned as his hand worked out my prick started touching it with hesitant and feather light fingertips. He was going to kill me like this.

"Ishida." I gasped out and lent into his collarbone. He kissed the top of my head and mumbled weird words and sounds into my hair. I had no idea what he was saying, only the rolling R's and the melodic bounce of the words sounded Goddamn sexy.

He began touching me with more surety and I couldn't help but moan into him. I put my hands on top of his and removed them, while looking into his eyes.

He seemed to understand that we wouldn't get much more done if he kept that up.

Instead he started fidgeting with his own pants and I eagerly jumped into help. Ishida placed his hands on the side of my head as he started kissing and mumbling curses into my mouth. My heart was pounding hard and my fingers were shaking slightly as I became more and more aware of what was about to happen.

I wasn't having second thoughts, oh no, I was starting to realize exactly how much I wanted this. This week had been a rollercoaster of sexual tension and the months prior to that even worse because I hadn't even had the possibility of touching him. But the last week had done nothing to lower the tension, if anything, giving me a taste of Ishida only made we want even more.

The pants were undone and lifting himself slightly I pushed them down his thighs and then he stood, and stepped out of them with the least amount of elegance I'd ever seen him perform, but somehow that just turned me on even more. Seeing him just as determined to do this as I was.

He sat back down again, completely naked. He hadn't given me enough time to appreciate the view but having it in my arms, on my lap, right up against my dick was also fine. Very fine, very, very fine.

My blood rushed through my veins and I kissed his shoulder, his neck, his jaw and finally his mouth. I licked his lips, he bit mine. I didn't feel his hands on my body, I heard the cap of the lube being pushed off and I assumed he was . . . going to do something with that.

"What're you doing?" I wondered out loud, my voice hoarse and rough. He kissed me and smiled a little.

"You're not fitting into me without a little help." He raised himself a little and his left hand disappeared behind him. I watched his face with rapt attention. I couldn't help but ghosting my hands up and down his torso as his brow knitted, his teeth sunk into his lip and shoulders tensed and unclenched with careful intervals.

He twitched a little and I let my hands stay, and then had my right hand carefully touch his erection. I had to admit, I understood why Ishida had been so insecure at first. It felt like breaking every single rule ever posed and knowing you shouldn't want it but you did. I slowly became firmer and firmer in my grip at Ishida looked down at me with heated eyes.

It was so very strange having him like this. Not stoic or arrogant but open and limber.

Then he grabbed my dick and I froze completely. With eternally slow movements he lowered himself onto me and I felt every star, every sun, every moon spin and shatter around me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, all I could do was feel Ishida around me. It truly felt amazing. Knowing that I was inside him, physically and emotionally. I was in Ishida. I'd fallen in him.

Ishida gasped when he finally sat in my lap again. Beads of sweat were slowly coming down from his temples and his throat. I leant forward and licked them off. He shuddered and grabbed my head, clinging to me as a shipwrecked clings onto driftwood.

And it was like being a storm at sea. I rolled my hips and Ishida cried out. I moved again and this time he surged forward to kiss me. Without haste, without shame and without restraints we slowly but surely rocked together as one, becoming one.

We didn't need to explore and specialize. We didn't need to worry or fuzz. All we needed to do was to feel each other so close together, not even inches apart.

We were falling into the abyss that had kept us apart and soon we would land, but not until we'd completed each other.

With frantic movements and whimpers we started rocking faster and faster, losing ourselves in the other and in the scent of our bodies so close and so alike.

Ishida came first, almost choking on my name and burying his face into my nape. As he tightened around me and his hands slid down to rest on my hips, I followed.

We sat there, panting, sweating, breathing, being together for a few minutes before Ishida pulled back and kissed me again. Deeper and more personal than before. I kissed back, reveling in the feeling of still being bodily connected with Ishida.

We didn't have any need for words. We smiled at each other and Ishida looked away. I caught his face and turned it back to me. Caressing his cheek and looking at him with utter adoration.

I couldn't help the constant smile on my lips and Ishida shook his head, though with a matching smile.

"Idiot."

Fin


End file.
